heading for the hills
My goodness, I'm only two months out and already I'm starting to get the burning urge to go back. I put together a composite slideshow out of the Japan Albums for family members and have been narrating the same slew of 200 pictures, all the way from the Great North to the South Islands and nearly everywhere in-between. Just as I expected, my dad's parents had little interest in anything I experienced overseas and uber-Xian grandma even went so far to say (in reference to Saturday morning anime) that anything from Japan was "straight out of the Pit," my mother's parents have been treated to, at their request, the full barrage of photos, videos and stories.

It was really rather pleasing to be met with such an interested familial outlet for Japan stories during my short time with them, but I can't say I'm entirely surprised at their interest. My grandfather, a member of the Michigan Auto Club and editor emeritus of AAA Michigan Living, has been a long-time food and travel review writer. My grandmother, who married him at about the age I am now, had little idea what she was getting into at the time, but has accompanied him everywhere from the African Savanna to the Alaskan Wilderness with camera and children at hand.

I think it must have been growing up knowing that at my age my mother was touring the world that set in my mind a sort of travel envy, which blew into wanderlust at the thought I might be able to someday lead the same life for myself. In this brief day and a half I've had with them, I've seen how happy they were, how happy they still are, and how well they lived at home and abroad. I see that hope in myself to follow in my grandfather's footsteps and find a man, perhaps, willing to both to ground me and to lift me up. Maybe wanderlust is just another of those traits that skips a generation.

I've been cross-country this summer, although seeing much less of America than I really would like. Tomorrow I head back to Montana for the final leg: six days climbing in Glacier National Park, quite possibly my favorite place on earth. It's been an eye-opening journey from pre-Tokyo to where I am now, to say the least. I've got a much clearer idea where I come from, where I'm going, and where I will return time and time again.

Despite the things left behind here, with my roots, I have no reason anymore to regret what changed when I moved away. I don't regret the distance I gained between family and friends with ten months overseas. I see lessons learned and progress made, things forgotten and things forgiven, and moving always from one moment forward into the next.

Having had no home or hearth for more than a few weeks at a time this summer, I've come to embrace the old sayings, "Be where you are" and "love the one(s) you're with." I don't know that I believe anymore that it's possible to move too much-- maybe it's just a product of this specific journey that I've been on, but I've felt more grounded and whole these past four months than I ever have before. I'd much prefer it if I had that special someone along for the ride with me, however. In the last year, I've seen my partner of nearly four-and-a-half years for only six weeks. It's an understatement to say that we're both in need of a little love & affection.

Tomorrow brings us back together after a month and a half separated by less than an ocean but more than a state. With luck, perseverence and maybe with a little help, we begin our own trek onward and upward into what could quite possibly be forever.